Evie said goodbye and gave Natalie back her phone, and then wrote for several minutes longer, while everything she’d just been told was fresh in her mind. She tore that sheet of paper off the pad, and read it again, and then put inside the relevant book.
“Thank you,” she said to Natalie. “Really. That actually helped a lot.”
“Good.”
“You could be useful,” Evie said, grinning, and ate another forkful of pasta.
“I’m glad.”
“As in, I completely owe you, you fucking champion of wonderfulness. That was amazing.”
Natalie just smiled, seeming pleased by how grateful Evie was. They talked a little more, while they finished eating, and Natalie finished her wine, and then Evie went back to studying and Natalie watched TV.
Then, the next day, when she came home from work, Natalie put a thick file on the table beside Evie.
Evie looked at it, unsure.
“I don’t know if it’s useful,” Natalie said. “That’s one of our associate’s university notes. I’d give you mine, but these are newer and she’s smarter than me.”
Evie opened the file, and looked. They were good notes, very clear and organised. There were a lot of them. A whole year’s work, it seemed like, for several courses. “You copied all these for me?”
Natalie shrugged. “Well, I had someone copy them, if that’s what you mean.”
Evie nodded. “Thank you,” she said. She flicked through the dividers, noticing it was organized by courses. “How did you know which courses to copy?”
“We guessed. From what you’d said, and what I’d noticed you reading.”
“Oh,” Evie said. “God. Thank you.”
Natalie shrugged. “I thought it might help.”
“It does,” Evie said. “A lot.” She was touched. It meant almost as much that Natalie had tried to work out what was useful as that she’d had the notes copied at all. Evie stood up, and kissed Natalie. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re fucking wonderful.”
“Let me know if I can do anything else.”
Evie nodded. “I will.”
Evie warmed up frozen dinners, while flicking through the notes in the folder, and decided they were useful. The next day she read them properly, and they helped a lot. Seeing someone else’s version of everything she’d been told made what she’d written down herself a lot clearer to understand.
She read all day, and tried to stay focused, and looked forward to Natalie coming home.
16: Natalie
Living with Evie, as far as they were living together at all, was very different to what Natalie had expected, and different to living with anyone else Natalie had lived with before. Evie was different to her. That was obvious, but it was still actually a surprise each time she realized it.
Evie was different to Natalie, in odd and interesting ways. Evie was untidy and disorganized. She left her clothes in a heap in the bedroom, usually crumpled, and usually with what she’d worn and what she hadn’t mixed up together, so she had to smell things as she got dressed. She left cups with an inch of coffee them around the apartment, in odd places, slowly drying out. She left doors open and lights on and forgot things she was supposed to be doing, lectures and coffee with friends as often as anything else, so she was perpetually running around the apartment, dropping things, late for something she’d only just remembered and rushing out the door.
Evie slept a lot too, far more than Natalie did. Natalie wasn’t sure if it was Evie’s age, or just Evie, but Evie slept until noon, and stayed awake until close to dawn, and was sometimes still awake, brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed, when Natalie got up in the morning. And sometimes she woke Natalie at two or three in the morning by loading the dishwasher or boiling the kettle, and didn’t seem to understand why Natalie was suddenly awake if Natalie got up.
A week passed, as Evie studied, and they began to create little habits, ways they fit together, which Natalie found quite nice.
Usually Evie was asleep when Natalie left, and usually Evie was there when Natalie got home, so Natalie tried to left quietly, without waking Evie, and most evenings Evie was cooking when Natalie came home.
Cooking, with her books all over the table, and sometimes on the kitchen counter, and her computer nearby too, so she could type as she thought. And usually Evie would look up and smile and say hey when Natalie walked in.
Once Evie asked Natalie, “Do you actually want me cooking? Or would you rather I let you?”
“Why would I mind.”
“I don’t know. You must have been coming home and cooking for years, and I might be messing up the routine.”
Natalie went over to the freezer, and opened it. “Really?” she said, looking at the shelf of frozen dinners.
“Um yeah,” Evie said. “Fair enough.”
“I’m glad you do,” Natalie said. “It’s nice.”
Evie grinned, and said, “Well I will, then.”
Usually, they ate dinner together, and spent time together in the evening, while Evie studied, and occasionally apologised for being distracted. Then Natalie would go to bed, and leave Evie reading. Sometimes Evie would go with her, for sex, and then get up again, and sometimes she said she was on the way, and would just finish her bit, and then woke Natalie two hours later slipping into bed, whispering, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how long I’d been.”
Natalie tried to fit in around what Evie was doing, at least for the duration of Evie’s exams. If Evie got unbearably difficult to live with, she told herself, they could talk it out later. Evie never seemed to, though. She studied a lot, and intently, more than Natalie had expected she would. She worked hard, like Natalie did, and Natalie felt like she could fit with Evie, without either of them being stifled, and that Evie was, perhaps without realizing, as driven as she was. Once, she stood in the kitchen and tried to feel offended, tried to feel her life was being disrupted, because it seemed like she ought to with all the mess and difference. She just didn’t feel that way, though, and it wasn’t, and she didn’t care at all. She wanted Evie here, wanted her here like this, all chaos and mess, and she was enjoying what it was becoming.
“Evie,” Natalie said one evening, and slid a credit card across to Evie.
Evie looked at it, and didn’t seem to understand.
“Use that, if you need anything.”
“Like what?”
Natalie shrugged. “Groceries. Things for around here.”
Evie seemed to be thinking.
“Interview clothes,” Natalie said. “Shoes.”
“No, not that.”
Natalie nodded. “I didn’t think so. But the rest?”
Evie didn’t pick up the card.
“Groceries isn’t paying you,” Natalie said, understanding why. “It’s just that you’re cooking all the time, you might need something.”
“I’m heating your frozen dinners. And making pasta.”
“And Thai.”
“Once.”
“Well, once is once and you shouldn’t be paying for food for here. So just use that.”
Evie nodded.
“It’s not me paying,” Natalie said, not sure if she was agreeing.
“Yeah it is, but okay. I’m not arguing.” Evie sat there, looking at the card. Then she said, “No wait, this isn’t going to work. You can’t trust me enough to tell me your pin yet.”
“I do,” Natalie said. “I will…”
“No, I don’t want you go.”
Natalie shrugged. “No pin, then, just sign.”
“I can’t sign you name.”
“Sign however you want. Sign anything. No-one checks. I mean, do you, when you’re being a waitress?”
Evie looked at her for a moment, then said, “No.”
“So there you go.”
“And if someone actually asks whether I’m you? Isn’t that fraud if I lie?”
“I don’t know, but no-one will.”
“They might.”
/> “Because people never give other people their cards to use,” Natalie said. She had almost said something about people giving their kids their cards, but changed her mind at the last moment.
“I suppose,” Evie said.
“Just use it. Please. If anyone’s worried they’ll call the bank and the bank can call me. I promise it won’t be a problem.”
Evie nodded, and put the card beside her phone and wallet. “No promises,” she said.
But probably.”
Natalie decided that was as much as Evie was likely to agree to. They ate, and then Evie went back to studying, and Natalie went into her study and switched on her computer and ordered groceries to be delivered from a local supermarket, just in case Evie changed her mind.
*
Natalie came home from work one lunchtime and found Evie still in bed. Evie was still there just because she was. She simply hadn’t happened to get up yet. She had been awake for an hour, and was going over the notes she’d made the day before, reminding herself of what she’d read. Sometimes, studying in bed was easier than getting up. The bed gave her a lot more room to spread things out, and Natalie’s central heating kept the apartment warm enough that she didn’t need to stay under the bedclothes like she would have at home.
Evie heard the door open and close, and called out, “I’m in here.”
“I just need some papers I forgot,” Natalie called, and went into study.
Evie waited, looking at the door, and after a moment Natalie came into the bedroom, stuffing a file into her briefcase. “I’m rushing,” she said. “I’m just here to kiss you.”
“Yep,” Evie said. “Okay. So do.”
Natalie leaned over the bed, and kissed her. Then she stopped, and looked around. “Have you actually got up yet?”
“Sort of.”
“Actually up?”
Evie grinned. “Well, to pee.”
“But up? Like out of bed?”
Evie shook her head.
Natalie stood there for a moment, as if she was about to say something, but then she smiled and seemed to make herself stop. She looked at Evie, still smiling, as if Evie was doing something charming. “Have you at least had something to eat?” she said.
Natalie asked that a lot. She seemed to worry that Evie wasn’t remembering practical things like food and fresh air, Evie assumed because Natalie became single-minded herself when she was concentrating, and had decided Evie would be the same.
“Just coffee,” Evie said. “The machine’s still on, if you want one.”
“That’s not eat,” Natalie said.
“I know, but…”
“No actual food?”
“Not yet.”
“You should have something.”
“I will.”
“I’ll make it for you.”
Evie looked up, surprised. She had only been awake an hour, but Natalie was probably imaging a day organized like her own, and that Evie had been starving herself all morning, too involved in her study to remember to eat. “I’m fine,” Evie said. “I wasn’t hungry yet, was all, and I wanted to go over this.”
Natalie kept looking at her.
“I’m about to get up,” Evie said.
“I’ll get something,” Natalie said, deciding, and put down the briefcase. “You’re always cooking things for me. What do you want?”
“You really don’t need to.”
“I’m afraid I do. What?”
Evie looked at her, unsure.
“I’m in a hurry,” Natalie said. “But I’m not leaving until I do this. So if you could just tell me and not argue, I’d be grateful.”
“Toast?” Evie said.
Natalie nodded, and went out to the kitchen. Evie heard the bread bag rustle, and the toaster click down. “What do you want on it?” Natalie called.
“Um, peanut butter?”
“How much? How thick, I mean?”
“You know, the usual.”
“That’s really not very helpful.”
“I don’t know. Just how thick people have it.”
There were scraping noises, then Natalie brought in a plate. It held two pieces of toast with smears of peanut butter. Small, tidy smears, just a hint for flavour, the way Natalie ate it. She held the plate out towards Evie. “Too much? Too little?”
“That’s fine,” Evie said.
“Oh,” Natalie said. “Fuck.”
“It’s really fine.”
“No it isn’t,” Natalie said. “Or you wouldn’t have said it like that. So which is it?”
“Which is what?”
“Too much or too little? Don’t make me guess or I’ll probably guess wrong.”
“I don’t…” Evie said, then decided that wasn’t going to work. She already knew Natalie well enough to see when an unnecessary conversation was about to happen. “It’s really okay, I’ll sort it out. Don’t you need to go?”
“It’s a partner’s meeting. I don’t need to go that much.”
Evie was surprised. “You’re going to stay here and make me toast rather than go to work?”
“Not really, I’ll drive fast. I’ll be there in time.”
“Okay,” Evie said. “Um, thank you, and perhaps just a little more peanut butter. But only if…”
Natalie picked up the plate and disappeared. She came back, and showed Evie the toast again, and it was still too little peanut butter, but Evie didn’t want to criticize. Natalie seemed to guess, or perhaps saw Evie’s expression. “More?” Natalie said.
“Um, perhaps just a little...”
Natalie sighed, and went back into the kitchen. She reappeared with the peanut butter jar and a knife and held them both out. Evie took them.
“You’re clever,” Evie said.
“I know,” Natalie said.
Evie took a bit, so as not to seem ungrateful. Natalie watched. Watched her drop crumbs in the bed.
“I’ll change the sheets later,” Evie said quickly.
“I didn’t say a thing.”
“You thought it.”
“Not really I didn’t, no.”
“I will.”
“And I didn’t think it.” Natalie leaned over the bed, and kissed her. “But now I really need to rush. So bye.”
“Thank you,” Evie said, and pulled Natalie back for another kiss, and then let her go.
Natalie waved, and dashed out the door.
“Bye,” Evie called, as the door slammed shut, then went back to her studying.
She realized afterwards she hadn’t actually got out of bed that evening until about an hour before Natalie got home from work.
*
One morning, for no particular reason, Evie got up when Natalie did and followed her out into the kitchen.
Evie had been awake in bed when Natalie got out the shower, and had lain there watching her dress, sleepily. When Natalie went to kiss her goodbye, Evie had said, “I’m getting up,” and had pulled the sheet off the bed, and wrapped herself in it, and gone and sat on the kitchen bench beside Natalie while Natalie made breakfast.
“You’re up early,” Natalie said, and Evie shrugged.
“It’s nice,” Natalie said. “Is there any reason?”
“Not really,” Evie said.
Evie smoked, under the extractor fan, and watched Natalie put slices of bread in the toaster. Evie’s legs were bare and smooth and wonderful, and her hair was a tangled tousled muddle. Natalie watched her and wanted her and was a bit surprised to realise how bad her crush was getting. She reached over, and stroked Evie’s leg, and waited for the coffee machine to warm up.
Evie smoked, saying nothing. When Natalie’s toast popped, Evie squashed out her cigarette. She usually didn’t smoke while Natalie was actually eating. Natalie made them both coffee, and put Evie’s mug on the bench beside her. Then she stood there, sipping from her own cup, eating toast in between sips as quickly as she could.
“Um,” Evie said, sounding slightly odd. “So I just wondered. Is thi
s still just fun? Or is this more?”
“What?” Natalie said, surprised.
“Is this only fun?” Evie said. “Or more? I just wondered.”
Natalie stood there, and thought that perhaps Evie wasn’t awake for no reason, after all. “Do we need to talk right now?” Natalie said, a bit worried. “It’s just I was about to go.”
Evie shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be right now.”
“Is that all right?”
“It’s fine.”
Natalie hesitated, then sighed. “No, we should. Otherwise I’ll just be wondering what you meant all day.”
“Fuck, sorry, I…” Evie only seemed to realize that then, and actually looked quite upset. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. What do you mean?”
“Us. This. I just wondered if it’s still only fun, or if it’s turning into something more?”
“Why?”
“Why would it be? Or why do I want to know?”
“Why ask,” Natalie said.
“Why not. So I know, I suppose.”
Natalie looked at Evie, and thought for a moment. Evie seemed wary, and slightly distant, as if she was concerned about something more than what she was asking. Natalie thought, and wasn’t completely sure, but wondered if it was not wanting to feel silly. She understood if it was, because she didn’t want to either. She wanted Evie, and felt a lot for Evie, but felt oddly reluctant to say so first. She was afraid of saying too much before Evie had as well, and she was suddenly wondering if Evie felt the same way.
“I thought we’d talked about this,” Natalie said. “The fun and otherwise.”
Evie shrugged. “It seems like a talk that keeps happening. As stuff changes.”
“I suppose so,” Natalie said, feeling oddly reluctant. “Although I’m not sure how much more I have to say.”
“One of us has to,” Evie said. “Eventually. You know that, yeah?”
Natalie wanted to deny it. Instead she said, “I know.”
“So are we going to?”
“Yes,” Natalie said.
Evie waited. Natalie wasn’t sure why she waited, but she quite obviously was.
“I am,” Natalie said, and then stood there for a moment, forcing herself, “Yes, it’s more than fun. Of course it’s more.”
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